


G is for Groundlings

by melagan



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:43:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9723251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melagan/pseuds/melagan
Summary: Lorne suddenly had a very clear image in his head. "Oh shit. Those things are mind readers?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Beta by Mischief. Written for the Parrish/Lorne Alphabet Challenge. Repost of an older work.

Lorne woke up to six pairs of beady, little eyes staring at him. He groaned as he raised himself up onto his elbows to stare back. Oh, this was so not what he meant when he told Parrish he didn't like waking up alone. "Parrish! Get in here and take care of these – these overgrown fuzz-balls of yours or I swear I'm going to make rodent pie out of them and serve it to the next werewolf that comes through."

Parrish peeked around the doorway, blinked twice at Lorne, and stepped into the room. He didn't look the least bit repentant. If anything, judging by the look on the Tinsdale's face, Lorne half expected him to shake a finger at him for not being nicer to their furry, uninvited guests. 

With a gentle tsk, Parrish picked up one of the tribble wannabes. Cradling the small beast in his arms, he said, "They're hardly suitable for rodent pie, Lorne. Now rovels, those you can serve up to the growly manwolves any time you wish." Parrish grimaced. "What vile creatures they are. They nearly ripped me to shreds. It may be in their nature, which I could forgive, but I'll not easily forgive how they almost kept me from reaching you."  
Lorne drew in a sharp breath as he watched Parrish's wings shudder as he spoke. It made him ache to reach out and comfort his mate. 

"That's what happened to your wings? You've never talked about it." Lorne said, remembering the first night they met and the utter wrongness of Parrish's wings, bloodied and bent at an unnatural angle. Fierceness rose in Lorne's chest and he knew without a doubt that he'd destroy the creatures that hurt his Tinsdale if he ever got the chance. Those things better hope they never stumble into this dimension."

Parrish looked shocked at the cold growl in his voice and just perhaps, Lorne thought, a reminder was in order. After all, any mortal running a Diner needed not only an open mind, but a backbone of steel and resolve to match.

"Here, take them." Lorne said. "We'll get these beasties settled some place that's not here and then, my feathered friend, you and I are going to have a little talk." 

Lorne watched as Parrish scooped up the remaining two. He looked like he had his arms full of furry, iridescent basketballs, and Lorne wondered all over again how these creatures even found their way into this dimension. "They're not really rodents of any sort are they?" Lorne asked. "Couldn't be. I've never seen anything quite like this." He ran a fingertip across the back of one of them. Striped in rainbow pastels, its long soft fur ended in tuffs that looked more like feathers than hair.

"Let me get some coffee and I'll meet you in the dining hall." Lorne said, and shook his head. "I don't care how special you think these little guys are, or how long they're staying, but they're going to have to get used to sleeping in a nice, cozy box in the back room." 

Which back room he couldn't say. Rooms appeared or hid as needed. Somehow, nothing ever got lost, though from time to time, a few oddities would show up. Oddities like these creatures.

With the grace of a few minutes to pull his pants on and make coffee, Lorne shook the last of the cobwebs from his brain. Time to figure out what was really going on. He poured himself and Parrish coffee, and on a whim, broke up a donut into a bowl as a peace offering. Wherever these little creatures had come from, Parrish liked them, which meant the Diner liked them. 

Lorne would find a way to make peace because he had no intention of crossing either one of them.

Standing in the doorway, coffee and bowl of donut crumbs in hand, Lorne took a minute just to enjoy the sight in front of Parrish. He was talking a mile a minute in a soft, low voice about something to a very captivated audience of other-dimensional – well, he refused to think of them as tribbles no matter how much they resembled the sci-fi critters. At least Parrish seemed to have figured out what they were doing here. Lorne nodded to himself, calling that a win. 

From the looks of things, the coffee and three am snack was a good idea because the more excited Parrish grew, the further away his chances looked of going back to bed for a snuggle with his Tinsdale. 

He wanted his cuddle damn it. 

Parrish turned his head and gave him a sharp stare. 

"Hey, I know I didn't say that out loud, did I?" Lorne narrowed his eyes. "Parrish, I _didn't_ say that out loud. Are you some kind of mind reader now?"

Wings ruffled in reaction but Parrish didn't say a word.

Lorne suddenly had a very clear image in his head. "Oh shit. Those things are mind readers? 

"They are, aren't they? Or some kind of mental transference enablers. Okay, that's just creepy. I was not thinking that. That was you, wasn't it? I can't believe this. Those – those harmless looking – things – put your thoughts in my head." Lorne stood frozen waiting to see what Parrish would say. 

Lorne got a big, fat nothing for an answer. Parrish did, however, reach out and the take the bowl of donut crumbs out of Lorne's hand to set it on the middle of the table. 

"How long are they staying here?" Lorne finally managed to ask. 

"Goundlings." Parrish said. "That's what they're called. Every caravan of Tinsdales has one. The groundlings are considered necessary –"

"So necessary," Lorne interrupted, "that your kind aren't allowed to break off into groups and form new caravans unless they have one to take with them. It's how you keep in touch over long distances." Lorne pointed to his temple. "Huh, guess they wanted me to know that."

"It is most curious. They tell me that they are here because we will have need of them. Although I've never heard of one, let alone a grouplet, leaving the Spiral Realm. I think we should make inquires."

"Ask Radek and the Potentials, you mean. Hey, can they tell what the Diner feels and needs?" Lorne asked. "I mean, is it the Diner's way of communicating? Because I have to tell you, there have been days when that information would have been damned convenient."

Parrish smiled at him, the picture of patience as images filled Lorne's mind with things. Things like Parrish backing him up against the wall and stripping his clothes off, using his hands and feathers to dance over his bare skin before he – oh fuck. Lorne swallowed hard. 

Parrish stepped up close and took the coffee mug out of his hand. "They promise to wait here. No interference unless we ask." With one soft wingtip, Parrish caressed Lorne's cheek. "But in this, I believe we already know what each of us is thinking." 

Grateful for the soft murmur of approval that he could hear in his head, Lorne didn't so much growl as groan. 

He's always been so careful with Parrish. Gentle, concerned, and yes, damn grateful. It was easy for Lorne to let the Tinsdale be the aggressor, though perhaps aggressor wasn't exactly the right word. 

Neither came into this relationship with experience. They'd learned. Learned through touches filled with wonder, passion, and sensuality. No moment, no caress, no intimate passage had given less than full satisfaction for either of them.

But still, Lorne held himself back, kept his coarser instincts at bay, the memory of those damaged wings still too recent. The fear rejection and of falling back into loneliness a little too close to his heart. 

He wasn't holding back now. 

With gentle shove, Lorne pushed Parrish up against the wall. In a moment, he had Parrish's face cradled in his hands, urging him down. His Tinsdale barely needed any guidance before bending his neck for Lorne until they met in a kiss. Parrish's easy compliance let something wild loose in Lorne. 

This time he growled. 

"We're not doing this in front of the groundlings. There are some things a man wants to at least pretend to keep private." Lorne sent Parrish a very clear image of exactly what he had in mind. 

The tips of Parrish's ears turned a fair shade of red. "Oh. I think I should like that very much."

"One thing. No beady, little eyes staring at us when we wake up this time?" Lorne asked. 

"They say not. But I had to promise you'd explain to them why you're wingless. To their mind, you're running around naked." Parrish's hand slipped down and cupped Lorne's ass. "I told them it was a good look on you."

~*~


End file.
